An Unexpected Offer...Part 1

The wind howled and snow flakes swirled around me as I waited the arrival of the South Beach Slayer at the appointed time. The sounds of the wind whistling through the hollowed-out, windowless building made it difficult to hear if anyone was approaching or not, so I kept my eyes open and weapons handy.

I really had no idea of what to expect form this meeting. The last time we had met face to face, the Slayer had left me on my back in the sands of South Beach with an incapacitated crazed killer to take the blame for his crimes and another dead body. He had also left me with a warning that I had a long way to go before I truly threaten him and his masters like my ‘father’ had. He meant Drake of course, the person who had orchestrated my birth into undeath.

Looking out over the edge towards the abandoned husk of Tiger Stadium, it felt strange to be so alone in the heart of a once-bustling and vibrant city. Even the streets below were devoid of traffic, the snow settling softly on the pavement that the city government could no longer afford to salt properly.

I had arrived at this crusty old shell of a building the old fashioned way, partly for the curiosity of being able to explore the once grand rail station on my way up to meeting and partly to conserve power for a hasty exit, should one be required. The base of the building was surrounded by a strong fence, but it was clear that any number of vagrants and other curiosity seekers had found alternative routes into the building. I was able to follow a trail in the fresh snow to a place where a hole had been made in the fence that I was easily able to squeeze through.

The first floor of the massive structure was covered in graffiti and littered with trash, including used needles and empty dime bags. Empty bottles rattled around and potato chip bags and candy wrappers swirled with the whistling winds. I rousted a pair of young men who were about to inject some recently heated heroin into their veins before they had the chance to get their high going. They scattered when I kicked over their portable kerosene stove, cursing me all the way. Neither of them had the courage to back their curses with action. They fled harmlessly into the night in search of their next fix and a quieter place to get it on.

The stairwell leading up to the roof through the more than dozen floors in between reeked of urine and human waste. The trash was piled highest on the first landing, with less and less of it on each successive level. I didn’t waste time on the intervening floors since it was pretty apparent that the place was largely abandoned, except for the druggies I had already evicted. On a warmer night in the spring or the summer, I could see this place as much busier, but not many folks were immune to the freezing weather like I was.

I sensed the arrival of the Slayer as a ripple of disturbance in the surrounding Shadow. I turned to face him.

(Part 2 by Wednesday, July 1, 2009)